Damn It! I am the nice girl. I really hoped that this Christmas I would end up with some coal and some really good stories. And yet, I am the nice girl.
How do I know? I met "the guy" where there was palpable chemistry in the air. He may literally have been the male version of me - and in an eerily nice way. We talked lit and football - two of my favorite topics. We also talked about his girlfriend. Yep. He had a girlfriend. Could I have angled it my way? Perhaps. Did I think about it? Yeah.
But when it comes down to it, I’m the nice girl. Even if I thought I could, I really couldn’t break 2 people up or cause the cheating.
Damn. Looks like I will be dreaming of sugarplums and sucking on candy canes. So much for being the Naughty Girl.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Seriously?
Year # 2 of the (now) ex-whatever taking my email address list and sending an evite out to my friends. If they didn't really want to go last year (when we were pseudo-together and before you blew off New Year's), what makes you think they want to go this year (now that the mean word was invoked and it has been almost 9 months)?
Weird.
Weirder is the "funniest slogan" competition they have. Create the best reply and you could end up on a t-shirt commemorating the party.
Weirdest is seeing him the other day (I will admit, it has been oddly cordial lately) and him telling me that he expects me to come up with a good line for the competition.
Does "No way in hell will I be there, given that last year's party was awkward and sucky and you ditched me 4 days later in a crazy turn events." count as witty? If it doesn’t, I was thinking, “I’d rather shoot my out.” It might work. Brings in the whole Christmas theme and all.
Weird.
Weirder is the "funniest slogan" competition they have. Create the best reply and you could end up on a t-shirt commemorating the party.
Weirdest is seeing him the other day (I will admit, it has been oddly cordial lately) and him telling me that he expects me to come up with a good line for the competition.
Does "No way in hell will I be there, given that last year's party was awkward and sucky and you ditched me 4 days later in a crazy turn events." count as witty? If it doesn’t, I was thinking, “I’d rather shoot my out.” It might work. Brings in the whole Christmas theme and all.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Snow Flakes Falling All Over Town
So, I planned to have last Friday off. Because of the concert. Because no one likes to go to a concert, have a super fun time and then think about work in the morning. I planned to have last Friday off. It was just a bonus that it snowed. There is nothing that a Chi-town girl loves more than the first snow. (And I mean a real Chi-town girl. Someone who has trick-or-treated in the snow and can appreciate that the first major snow storm didn't hit until December 1, 2006). The first snow means, winter hats and gloves, puffy coats and best of all, snow boots. I love my snow boots! I have been waiting to wear them for a while.
When we left the concert, there was a brisk chill in the air. We stopped at Raw Bar, which had graciously watched our coats while we were at the show. We drank champagne while our friend played the piano. We hung out and had fun. N., M. and I decided to do a walk by (checking the scene at a neighborhood bar) and then head to G. T. to end the night. We bundled up and headed outside. It was snowing! Big. Glorious. Wet. Snow. We were thrilled. We headed down the street singing every Christmas carol that involved snow. (We apologize to those that we might have woken up with our shenanigans).
Had a few cocktails. Sang a few songs. Headed home. We tucked ourselves into our respective beds while dreams of snowflakes filled our heads. (Sorry, that was way silly, but I couldn’t resist).
I woke up on Friday excited for the world. Well, sort of. I woke up when my mom called me to tell me about her snow day. I had to remind her that I had taken my own snow day and that I wasn’t up at 6:40 like usual, because I was hoping to sleep in.
After going back to sleep and waking up again, I texted (why hasn’t my spell check program realized this is now a verb) N. to see what she was up to for food. The next thing we know a fun, comfort food, snow day lunch is planned. We all head to a local establishment for some warm food and a nice bartender to ogle a bit. N. had some work to do at the shop (i.e. a crap load of balloons to blow up). We went to help. I now rock at tying ribbon on a balloon.
From there we trekked, literally aiming for the snow piles – since we were wearing our snow boots, to get some hot chocolate. We headed to the G.T. to help N. open the bar.
Single-handedly, this was one of my most favorite days. It was perfect. Snow. Warm food. Good friends. Hot Chocolate. Crossword Puzzle. Funny Re-Cap of Evening Before. You couldn’t ask for anything more.
When we left the concert, there was a brisk chill in the air. We stopped at Raw Bar, which had graciously watched our coats while we were at the show. We drank champagne while our friend played the piano. We hung out and had fun. N., M. and I decided to do a walk by (checking the scene at a neighborhood bar) and then head to G. T. to end the night. We bundled up and headed outside. It was snowing! Big. Glorious. Wet. Snow. We were thrilled. We headed down the street singing every Christmas carol that involved snow. (We apologize to those that we might have woken up with our shenanigans).
Had a few cocktails. Sang a few songs. Headed home. We tucked ourselves into our respective beds while dreams of snowflakes filled our heads. (Sorry, that was way silly, but I couldn’t resist).
I woke up on Friday excited for the world. Well, sort of. I woke up when my mom called me to tell me about her snow day. I had to remind her that I had taken my own snow day and that I wasn’t up at 6:40 like usual, because I was hoping to sleep in.
After going back to sleep and waking up again, I texted (why hasn’t my spell check program realized this is now a verb) N. to see what she was up to for food. The next thing we know a fun, comfort food, snow day lunch is planned. We all head to a local establishment for some warm food and a nice bartender to ogle a bit. N. had some work to do at the shop (i.e. a crap load of balloons to blow up). We went to help. I now rock at tying ribbon on a balloon.
From there we trekked, literally aiming for the snow piles – since we were wearing our snow boots, to get some hot chocolate. We headed to the G.T. to help N. open the bar.
Single-handedly, this was one of my most favorite days. It was perfect. Snow. Warm food. Good friends. Hot Chocolate. Crossword Puzzle. Funny Re-Cap of Evening Before. You couldn’t ask for anything more.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Gonna Knock You Right on the Head
While at the concert on Thursday, we witnessed a tragic sight. Band Groupies. And worse yet, they were Band Groupies for a good, but not-hugely-known-outside-of-Texas artist. A good artist at that. I respect and like Bob Schneider for his music and his lack of need for radio play and the next big single. But that is an entirely different point. These girls (older women pretending to be girls) were the kind that had gotten there early and planted themselves against the stage before the opening act (Matt the Electrician) was even playing. They were a bit on the yuck side.
Being our fabulous (read - sometimes a bit judgmental) selves, we noticed that one of the girls had decided a ribbed tank top and tuxedo-style, halter vest were a good, fashionable combination. It was most definitely not. Upon noticing this catastrophe, we did what all single girls in the city slugging miller lite from a plastic cup do, we took a solemn oath. N. a.k.a. “Oath Leader” made us all raise our hands and swear that we would never think the tank top / halter vest was a good idea and as friends, we would never let each other leave the house looking that tragic. Upon completing the oath, we cheered each other, swigged our beer and looked up and noticed that tank top / vest girl was glancing at us a bit. Busted. Crap, it is no fun to people-watch / outfit mock if you are going to get caught.
Forward the evening a few hours. Bob is on stage and playing. (Apparently according to our friend, Steve, he sucked. As a Bob virgin, I had no idea. I just blindly had fun drinking crappy beer (a.k.a. Miller Lite) and hanging with my friends). N. and I have just rejoined the circle after another beer run an are listening to the music. N. says something funny and goes to move back. The next thing I see is N. in slow motion heading for the floor with her beer in her hand above her head and tipping over. I Go-Go-Gadgeted my arms and grabbed the beer, sparing about a 1/3 of it, which I think is pretty good. N. lays on the floor wondering if a) she can slowly meld into it and b) anyone noticed the graceful moment that just happened.
We all wondered if Instant Karma hadn’t just bit us in the ass a bit.
Being our fabulous (read - sometimes a bit judgmental) selves, we noticed that one of the girls had decided a ribbed tank top and tuxedo-style, halter vest were a good, fashionable combination. It was most definitely not. Upon noticing this catastrophe, we did what all single girls in the city slugging miller lite from a plastic cup do, we took a solemn oath. N. a.k.a. “Oath Leader” made us all raise our hands and swear that we would never think the tank top / halter vest was a good idea and as friends, we would never let each other leave the house looking that tragic. Upon completing the oath, we cheered each other, swigged our beer and looked up and noticed that tank top / vest girl was glancing at us a bit. Busted. Crap, it is no fun to people-watch / outfit mock if you are going to get caught.
Forward the evening a few hours. Bob is on stage and playing. (Apparently according to our friend, Steve, he sucked. As a Bob virgin, I had no idea. I just blindly had fun drinking crappy beer (a.k.a. Miller Lite) and hanging with my friends). N. and I have just rejoined the circle after another beer run an are listening to the music. N. says something funny and goes to move back. The next thing I see is N. in slow motion heading for the floor with her beer in her hand above her head and tipping over. I Go-Go-Gadgeted my arms and grabbed the beer, sparing about a 1/3 of it, which I think is pretty good. N. lays on the floor wondering if a) she can slowly meld into it and b) anyone noticed the graceful moment that just happened.
We all wondered if Instant Karma hadn’t just bit us in the ass a bit.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Crunchy Granola Suite
A group of friends and I attended a concert at the Metro last week. As we entered the 18 and over show, we were carded at the door. We had our bags inspected by security and I use that term loosely. The female security officer stuck her hand in my purse and rummaged around. She pulled out a Kashi granola bar from my bag and yelled at me about sneaking food into the concert. (Because, who doesn't want to have a granola bar and a beer at a show?!?) She wouldn't let me pass unless I threw the granola bar away. I, calm as ever (or not at all), replied something to the extent of why would I eat an f-ing granola bar at a concert and tossed the thing in the trash and entered the Metro.
Continuing onto checkpoint #2, I was carded by a guy who asked me if I had any gum. Still a little pissed off about the Kashi, I asked him “why, do you need to confiscate that too?” Poor innocent carding guy. All he wanted was a piece of gum. I offered him a Tic Tac. Finally inside, I made my way to the bar, because after all this, it was necessary.
Flash Forward to encounter with random drunk girl in bathroom later in the evening. I pulled some lotion out of my purse for a friend, so that we could curb the tavern smell she had about her – more on that story in a different post. We struck up a conversation with this girl about the neighborhood attacks and such. (Have no idea how that became bathroom fodder). Anyway, short story long, she said that she didn’t go anywhere without her pepper spray and blade. And then she pulled them out to show us them.
Could someone explain how the Kashi is the more of a threat than pepper spray and a knife? Was I going to cranberry them to death?
Continuing onto checkpoint #2, I was carded by a guy who asked me if I had any gum. Still a little pissed off about the Kashi, I asked him “why, do you need to confiscate that too?” Poor innocent carding guy. All he wanted was a piece of gum. I offered him a Tic Tac. Finally inside, I made my way to the bar, because after all this, it was necessary.
Flash Forward to encounter with random drunk girl in bathroom later in the evening. I pulled some lotion out of my purse for a friend, so that we could curb the tavern smell she had about her – more on that story in a different post. We struck up a conversation with this girl about the neighborhood attacks and such. (Have no idea how that became bathroom fodder). Anyway, short story long, she said that she didn’t go anywhere without her pepper spray and blade. And then she pulled them out to show us them.
Could someone explain how the Kashi is the more of a threat than pepper spray and a knife? Was I going to cranberry them to death?
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